"Want of sleep is something that never troubles me," was the reply. "Were you out with the Home Guards last night? And how did they treat my mother after they got into the house?" "Didn't I say that the first one amongst 'em who looked cross-ways at her, or said anything out of the way, would have to answer to me for it?" demanded Hawkins. "I said that much to 'em before we went into your yard; and well, them Home Guards know me." "I assure you that I shall not forget it," said Marcy gratefully. "I hope you did not say or do anything to add to their suspicions. You know you told me they were afraid to trust you. And why did you come here instead of going home?" "I don't care a cent if they distrust me now more'n they did before," answered Hawkins. "I'm watching 'em, and they'll have to get up in the morning to get the start of me. And I come to camp to see if you was here, and find out if it was that little nigger's yelling that warned you." "That was just it," replied Marcy. "If Beardsley hadn't caught him, he would surely have caught me. What did Beardsley have to say for himself?" "He was purty bad hurt, I tell you; and we had to hold him in the hoss-trough for as much as a minute before he came to. He's bound to kill that nigger. He didn't see him have no club in his hand when he ketched him." "Julius never struck him with a club," exclaimed Marcy. "He gave him a butt under the ear." The Confederate uttered an ejaculation indicative of the greatest astonishment, and then he sat up on his blanket, reached over Marcy's shoulder, and began throwing aside the leaves and branches until he uncovered a gray quilt. This he pulled off in spite of the desperate efforts of some one beneath to prevent it, and when he drew the quilt over Marcy's shoulder, he brought with it the boy Julius, who was highly enraged because his dreamless slumber had been so rudely disturbed. "Did you like to butt the life out of Cap'n Beardsley last night?" inquired Hawkins. "Come here, and let me see how hard your head is." "Take you' hands off'n dat head," sputtered Julius. "I buck one rebel las' night, an' you want watch out dat I don't buck nodder one dis mawning." Then he became good-natured all at once, for he thought of something he wanted to ask Hawkins. "What Beardsley say when he seen his fine schooner go up in de clouds?" "He was mad and sorry and skeered," answered Hawkins. "I'll bet you, Mister Marcy, that he plum forgot about that schooner, or he wouldn't have been in such a hurry to help Shelby raise the Home Guards. Of course we rode hard for the fire as soon as we seen it, but we couldn't do no good after we got there. The schooner was too far gone." "Did Beardsley find the note I left for him?" asked Marcy. "Shelby found it and give it to him; and it was when he read it that he looked sorry and skeered. It was lucky you wrote it, for it kept some of the Home Guards from being killed." "How do you make that out?"